


Breaking Glass

by shewasagaystripper



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: And a glass of wine they shatter, Brian May - Freeform, Brian being horny and Roger being innocent for a change, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Roger Taylor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasagaystripper/pseuds/shewasagaystripper
Summary: Here’s proof that shards do, in fact, bring luck





	Breaking Glass

Brian only just managed to close the front door behind him before he was pressed against the nearest wall by his boyfriend, and he gladly leant in to the touch of Roger’s small hands that were running all over his body in an attempt to show him who was leading the way. Brian had absolutely no problems with Roger stepping up and being dominant over him every now and then, knowing it was only momentarily; soon enough, Roger would completely melt against the touch of his hands and lips, and then he would gladly transfer the leading role to his boyfriend, by going so giving Brian permission to decide what they were going to do. Brian couldn’t wait to be in charge again, but he let Roger have his way for now, impatiently leaning into the touch of his hungry lips and wicked fingers that had slipped under his shirt, raking his finger nails over his flat chest.

‘You’re driving me _insane_ ,’ Brian managed in a low voice in the short moment he pulled away from Roger, before his lips crashed down on Roger’s again, kissing him passionately and most of all needily. When he felt Roger moaning softly into the kiss and then slowly opening his mouth for him, Brian knew he was winning this battle of dominance. Yet instead of simply sticking his tongue down his boyfriend’s throat to mark his victory, he wanted to make his triumph a little more evident by pushing himself free from his position to the wall and shoving Roger against the place he had been backed against previously instead. The drummer shrieked at the unexpected but not unwanted exchange of roles, but the shock in his blue eyes soon traded places with lust, nodding at Brian to make sure he knew he was totally fine with the renewed distribution of power. He even brought his hands up on his own account so that Brian could force them against the wall before their lips clashed together again. The second kiss was even more forceful and eager than the first one; teeth were snapping, breath was turning louder, fingers were either struggling to get free or gripping tighter around wrists to prevent them from escaping, the first of which only happened when Brian allowed Roger to do so the moment he decided to reveal his new plan to the captured drummer.

‘What if we would take this to the kitchen, hm?’ Brian asked, and Roger’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion before nodding, nothing but curious and eager to know which dirty plans Brian had in mind for the two of them. After having contained themselves all day long at the studio and the press conference, they were both longing for a sensual moment between the two of them; the prospect of moving onto the kitchen instead of the usual bedroom only made matters more exciting. Brian smirked slyly at Roger while pulling the younger man along with him through the hallway, pausing a moment at the door when they didn’t manage to open it with their shaky and uncoordinated hands, and they wordlessly agreed that it was time for another kissing session, not minding that this happened to be against the door to the kitchen.

Roger nearly tumbled backwards when Brian managed to fumble the door open with his hand during the kissing scene, but he was prevented from actually falling by Brian’s hand that was irremovably gripping onto the front of his shirt. Neither being given and nor needing a second to catch his breath, Roger followed his boyfriend into the kitchen, where Brian pushed him towards the countertop until his back bumped up against the smooth surface of it.

‘On the countertop,’ Brian breathed, even though he knew Roger didn’t need any instructions to know what to do. The drummer had already placed his hands next to his body on both sides of the granite surface, hoisting himself up the kitchen dresser with a little bit of Brian’s help, who couldn’t keep his hands off him anyway and certainly didn’t mind keeping his hands on both of his sides now.

‘Come closer,’ Roger said as he wrapped both legs around Brian’s waist, making sure the guitarist couldn’t go anywhere. Not that Brian was planning on leaving him anyway; he couldn’t move away from his boyfriend at this point in time even if he would have wanted it, so being captured by Roger’s legs certainly wasn’t punishment for him. He decided that he was now allowed to do something similar, which was capturing Roger’s wrists between his fingers again, pressing them against his lover’s shoulders as he leant in to kiss him needily but lovingly again, Roger submitting to- and following his action again.

‘I could kiss you all day long, if I didn’t have other plans with you in mind,’ Brian admitted huskily as he left Roger’s slightly red and swollen lips for a moment to breathe. Roger smiled smugly and contentedly when the older man pressed his hands and torso back against the countertop to have one more go at snogging him, but this smile soon faded when the deafeningly high sound of something breakable shattering apart against a particularly hard surface.

‘Ah!’ Roger cried, pushing his body back up from the countertop again and struggling to free his wrists, grabbing onto Brian’s arms instead. He simply clung onto him like a scared child; hands clamping tightly onto Brian’s arms and head pressed against his chest in a reflex of finding shelter and safety in his boyfriend. Even Brian was caught off-guard by this unexpected noise and his boyfriend’s reaction to it; one moment he was passionately kissing his lover and showing him who he belonged to, and just seconds later, the person who was beneath him had suddenly practically climbed on top of him in his moment of fear.

‘What was _that_?!’ Roger gasped as he peered around the room, his breath circulation rapid and superficial – not so much because of the heated tension between the two of them anymore, but because of the unexpected loud sound that rung through their ears. Brian, although less shocked than Roger by the sudden noise, also looked around in a quest for the source of evil, only to end up laughing once he found it.

‘Darling, it’s fine! It’s just – correction, it _was_ – just a glass,’ Brian smiled, freeing one of the arms that Roger had clamped onto, to point at the shards of glass in a puddle of red liquid on the floor – the remnants of what used to be a forgotten glass of wine. He didn’t even try to hold back an amused but endeared chuckle as he looked at Roger’s expression, his eyes wide with fear, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

‘Ahw, why are you so _cute_ when something is scaring the hell out of you?’ he said as he leant in to pinch Roger’s cheek, to which Roger blushed and tried to turn his face away, but he failed at this when Brian grasped his chin between his thumb- and forefinger. ‘Nahw, look at that face! It would almost make me randomly start molesting the dishware, just to see you-’

‘Oh, stop it,’ Roger rolled his eyes. ‘I was just caught by surprise. It didn’t actually scare me,’ he mumbled while letting his grip around Brian’s arm slacken and creating some more distance between the two of them, hoping that it would make Brian realise that he had to remove his fingers from his chin, which Brian only did because he needed his index finger to give him a soft tap against his nose.

‘Surely not,’ Brian teased, and Roger crossed his arms over his chest in a fruitless attempt to appear insulted, while in reality, it only made him look more like an indignant toddler who was upset about being mocked by an adult. This seemed to be Roger’s natural state of being: childishly cute with the sensitiveness and touchiness that usually went along with it. Brian always liked to think that it was a perfect contrast to his own calmness and mature, purely ratio-based behaviour. ‘You can just admit that you jumped like a scared mouse the moment you knocked over that glass.’

‘I didn’t jump like a scared mouse!’ Roger complained, only to have Brian pull off a pouty expression as he rubbed his slightly flushed cheek. ‘Alright, I’m gonna clean this mess up,’ Roger said to escape Brian’s ways of affection as he jumped off the countertop and got on his knees on the floor, next to the small ravage they had created only a minute ago, probably happy that he had found a way to escape his overly mollified boyfriend.

‘Be careful, baby,’ Brian warned him, crouching down next to him and putting his hand on Roger’s as he reached out his fingers to pick the red-transparent shards up from the kitchen floor. ‘I don’t want you to cut yourself.’

‘I won’t,’ Roger tried to convince him, but when he started to carefully yet rather clumsily gather the sharp pieces of glass with his fingers, Brian decided not to listen to him.

‘We are going to need a dustpan and brush,’ Brian announced.

‘No, I’ll manage like this,’ Roger disagreed, but Brian stood up nevertheless to put his statement into practice, hoping to be back before his stubborn boyfriend would cut himself on an overlooked remaining piece of what used to be a wine glass. He walked over to the hallway and tore open the door of the broom closet, feeling around on the upper shelf until he felt the cold, iron handgrip of the dustpan.

‘Found it!’ Brian chanted when he came back from the hallway with the required items, standing still for a second to look at his partner. It seemed that while he was away, Roger had given up on his position of sitting on his knees and had simply retreated to getting down on all fours on the floor. On top of that, he was reaching over with a cleansing cloth as far as possible as to try and avoid the puddle of wine that would probably leave inerasable stains on his white, velvet trousers if the two materials were to meet each other. It was probably a smart decision to try and stay away from the epicentre of sharp edged shatters and bright red liquid, but Brian could do nothing but stare at his bottom that was pushed out and displayed so prettily in his position. He didn’t know what to do with the uneasy sensation of feeling his cock giving a slight twitch at the sight in front of him, but what he did know was that he wanted to do something with it, use the position of his boyfriend one way or another. Maybe, just maybe, he could get down next to Roger and let his arm slip past the waistband of his trousers. Or maybe, knowing Roger, the younger man would prefer it a little rougher, simply being told to discard his clothes and staying exactly where he was while Brian undressed as well and-

 _Goodness me, contain yourself, Brian Harold May. He’s just cleaning the floor, as should you,_ he reminded himself sternly, but he couldn’t push the naughty thoughts away. Feeling his cheeks starting to glow and his cock stir at the sudden sexual fantasies popping up inside his mind, he walked past Roger and got down on the floor with the tools he had been looking for, in an attempt to oppress the tendency to simply grab Roger’s sides, yank his trousers down and take it from there.

‘Roger, I’ve… eh, I’ve found the dustpan and brush,’ he informed him awkwardly as he crouched down on the opposite side of his boyfriend, hoping that not seeing his body bent in that one certain position would help to alleviate the uncomfortable tightness of his own trousers in the area of his crotch, which it soon turned out _not_ to do as he envisioned the image of Roger on both hands and knees again.

‘Oh thanks, but I think I’ve already cleaned up most of the glass,’ Roger said as he peered up at him with a small smile, shortly nodding at the small accumulation of transparent shards that he had gathered on the right side of him. He was obviously very engaged in his task of cleaning up the solid and liquid remains of the glass of wine, and had indeed already cleaned up most of it, so Brian decided to quickly help him a little before it would appear as if he hadn’t done anything to clean up the mess. But though trying to catch the smallest flints of glass with his brush, Brian found himself having to glance up at his partner with every well-coordinated movement he made, and all he could focus on was imagining how amazing Roger’s ass must have looked like in those tight, velvet trousers the moment he leant over even further to scrub a stain from the floor with the soaked cloth he was using to clean with. How badly he wished he could position himself behind Roger, how badly he wanted to…

‘Something wrong, Bri?’ Roger suddenly awoke him from his improper thoughts. ‘You seem so… distant and sad. I’m sorry, did I ruin something particularly important?’ Roger asked, looking at Brian with such guilt and sadness in his eyes that it made Brian feel bad for him that he was worried about having knocked over a wine glass. ‘I’m so sorry, I’ll buy you a new glass, or bottle of wine, or-’

‘No, don’t worry, it was just a wine class. We have dozens of them,’ the guitarist said, remembering the paper box entirely filled with wine glasses and other dishware that his parents had been glad to dump at his place when Brian had announced Roger and he were moving in together, since they never used those glasses and yet thought it was a shame to simply throw them into the bottle bank.

‘Then what’s it?’ Roger asked, the circle-like movements of his hands having come to a halt now that he was completely focussing on Brian, much to the older man’s embarrassment. The last thing he wanted was for Roger to find out that he was blushing rather heavily, not to even mention that he was shifting around uncomfortably to try and hide the visible bulge that had formed in his trousers.

‘No, nothing, dear. It’s stupid,’ Brian said as he looked down at the ever-expanding pool of red wine on the floor, picking the cloth from Roger’s fingers to hastily scrub away a line of the alcohol that ran dangerously close to his own trousers. ‘It’s just… You look very good on all fours on the floor in those tight white trousers ,’ Brian admitted with a small smile as he looked at Roger, who just chuckled.

‘And you were thinking that I’d probably look even better on all fours on the floor without any clothes covering my body from my waist down?’ Roger assumed jokingly, and Brian blushed heavily now that it turned out that his partner seemed to be able to read him – or his body, perhaps – like and open book.

‘No, I wasn’t!’ Brian started to defend himself, but what Roger thought was Brian’s usual restraint and prudence, actually turned out to be signs of a much wilder imagination than what he was used to with his boyfriend, making Brian’s answer taking a different turn than expected. ‘Not here on the wine stained floor in the middle of a battlefield of glass, anyway,’ Brian then added. ‘I would rather have you naked on all fours in bed, where I don’t have to worry about you hurting yourself on a forgotten glass shard when you rock forward after a particularly deep movement,’ he added, his voice trailing down slightly at the end of the sentence, as if he suddenly realised that what he was saying was rather… well, unusual for him.

The two of them simply stared at each other for a few seconds, probably both having to process Brian’s sexually oriented use of language that none of them was used to, before Roger broke the silence with an amused and most of all approving chuckle. ‘I’m starting to think that I should break glass more often.’

‘Shards bring luck, don’t they?’ Brian shrugged innocently, but Roger could see the lingering sparkle of lust lighting up his usually soft, amber eyes. He got off his apparently rather sexually suggestive position on the floor and stood up, pulling Brian off his knees as well, hauling his boyfriend off the floor and wrapping his arms around his lanky body, looking up at him.

‘I think I’m about to find out if they do,’ Roger whispered against Brian’s lips, gladly letting Brian’s fingers slide along his body, his sides, the small of his back and the curve of his ass, breath hitching in his throat as Brian sneaked a clever hand beneath the front of the waistband of his tight trousers.

‘Let’s see what more we can spill apart from red wine,’ Brian winked, and Roger didn’t know if he had to blush or wink back at him. He probably pulled off a combination of both options while not being able to do anything apart from obediently following Brian as he released his hand from his trousers and tugged him along with him in the direction of the bedroom, leaving behind the sticky stains of wine they had created in order to produce a whole other kind of liquid.


End file.
